


Every Damn One

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Family, Gen, Reflection of Relationships, Tag to 1x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 16:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5935519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the most recent episode, Mario thinks about what had happened and later reflects on his relationships and how much has changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Damn One

                                                                               _Every Damn One  
_

 

Mario still remembered of how Gina had died. The blood, red and dark, still haunted his mind as he tried to swallow the beer in his throat. The dark-haired resident had attempted to process his thoughts during the hellish week by having a beer – but it didn’t take away the smell of metallic blood or the sight of the red staining his elbows, his hands. At the memory of finding Gina Perello, the ER director bleeding with blood falling onto the ground, almost dark as black, Mario hadn’t been able to contain his emotion. His throat closed as a lump swelled in his throat.

_“Who did this?!”_ The shock and rage burned in the resident’s mind, almost causing him to want to punch something. _“Who did this?!”_ Angus’ brother had told them that they had done the best they could to save Gina’s life. The woman who he had once looked at with disbelief as she stated that she was trying her best during the time with Tina and her lunatic religious father, was now dead.

No life. No pulse. Mario’s stomach burned hot with rage at the thought of Campbell’s callous exasperation as he told the stunned and blood-coated doctors to call it. _What an asshole._ The feeling dulled to anger and disgust as Mario remembered of how the asshole had talked to Dr. Hudson and Angus’ brother. _I’m better than you,_ were his unsaid words. _You are just flies, compared to me._ The joke of a surgeon had reported on the doctors that Mario respected, and looked for guidance during the trying time of trying to save the director of the ER’s life. _Those guys were heroes,_ the dark-haired resident thought darkly as he thought of the arrogant bastard who had blamed _them_ for the death of Gina. Mario swallowed thickly at the memory of his disbelief and scorn as he told Heather that Campbell was a joke. The surgical resident had simply defended the smug bastard, telling the ER resident of things that didn’t matter – who cared if the joke was given some dumbass award?

Suddenly the words that Dr. Hudson had told him, seeming so-long ago now as Mario looked back, echoed in his mind. The resident had not wanted to deal with a patient with an erection – and had told Dr. Hudson hotly that he didn’t go through medical school to deal with _that._ Dr. Hudson had turned to him, and Mario had almost expected him to yell, or perhaps treat him as Dr. Rorish treated the residents – with a firm hand and a harsh voice. There was anger in Dr. Hudson’s voice, sure, but it wasn’t the kind of teaching that Mario had expected. A lesson that Mario finally understood. _He’s a good teacher,_ Mario thought idly as he thought of the attending’s patience and kindness to his fellow residents and to the families of the patients, or to the patients themselves. _I wonder why he didn’t get the position of being the director of the residency program. He’s been here longer than Angus’ brother, and he knows us._ Mario’s thoughts wandered to the attending’s face as Dr. Leighton pronounced the death of Gina. There was pain and regret on Dr. Hudson’s expression, and Mario looked up to see that Angus’ brother was telling both of them that they had done all they could. _“She deserved that.”_ The disgust of finding that Heather was defending that piece of shit Campbell made Mario want to do something that he would regret – resorting to violence should be behind him now. The anger was real, though. The rage of knowing that some lunatic had stabbed Gina and Malaya, leaving them to bled, with him being treated beside them – Mario took a deep breath and unclenched his hands, finding that he was gripping the counter so hard his hands were ghost white. _I can’t believe I slept with such a person._

Mario almost wanted to laugh at the thought that appeared in his mind. Was he _still_ not over that? Finding out that Heather was in fact not only sleeping with him, but with that joke Campbell – with the fact that he was probably just a throw-away to her. Angus had stated that Heather only slept with attendings or higher, so why would Heather sleep with someone like him? The dark-haired resident was grateful, actually, that he had ended it with Heather. There was no way he wanted to _be_ with someone that treated sex with only physical attachment, and who saw the materials of things as important. She had actually told him that _she_ was free tonight – did Heather actually think that he would do that again with her after what had happened? Apparently she did. _What truly matters is how a doctor treats their patients, and the effort they put into saving them. Wealth, and everything else, doesn’t matter to patients, and it doesn’t matter to us._

If Mario had told his former self that he would think those words, he would have called them a fool. How he had changed. Mario remembered of how he had mentioned Christa’s age when they first met, asking her why a thirty-something old woman was here in a residency program; bullying Angus and telling him that they weren’t in high school anymore as they _both_ made the mistake of doing a thoracotomy. The sight of Angus’ face as Mario said nothing as Angus took all the blame for the mistake, the residents treating him with well-deserved disdain. _I was such an asshole._ The memory of Ted, the patient telling him to not end of like him. _He said I was a reflection of him,_ Mario thought as he absent-mindedly used his finger to touch the counter. The bar was empty, only a bartender slowly cleaning the glasses as he had done years ago. He remembered too of how, after telling Angus that he would do it over again and that he was sorry, the resident had called the residents, Jesse, and Dr. Hudson names of alcohol beverages, the entire room erupting in laughter – and for the first time Mario actually felt happy.

_“Who did this?!”_

The moment Jesse – no, Mama, had a heart attack, Mario came to realize of how much this place and the people in it meant to him. That was why he had asked the others to cover for him, to find a patient’s son and bring him to his father. And now it appeared that his feelings had only grown. The grief of seeing one of the people he had seen working and breathing lying dead with her own blood falling onto the ground haunted Mario. The rage had been real. _Everything_ he had felt had been real. Mario thickly swallowed and felt the burn of the alcohol against his throat. If it had been someone other than Gina on that gurney and with the time of death called – Mama, Dr. Rorish, Dr. Hudson, Malaya, Christa – he would have lost it. Suddenly Mario’s mind froze at a small voice reminding him of Angus. The dark-haired resident almost choked on his saliva, his breathing slightly increasing at the image of Angus on the gurney – dead. _I would be dead._

Mario thickly swallowed, trying to control the slight shaking in his hands. _I would be dead. I would have no_ idea _what to do if any of them were lying there with that horrible flat line._ Mario had never truly had a family. He had wished for one, desperately and pathetically as abused children do, for parents who loved him and cared about him – didn’t forgot that they had a son who often fell asleep to sounds of shouting with an empty stomach and a bruise along his wrist or temple. Then, Mario had simply stopped pretending. He had stopped caring, hardened his heart to the point that when his parents did die, their deaths didn’t affect him. Mario was purposely a bastard to his grandmother, who later revealed that he probably shouldn’t have been born with how screwed-up he was. Mario hadn’t connected with anyone, nor did he want to.

_I was fine with being alone. Alone protected me...until it didn’t._

Now he apparently had a family. One that cared he existed, and one that he shared _feelings_ with, that would never allow him to hide anything. Angus was one that he was closest to. It was...like Angus was the sun, or something. _He shines whatever light I have left inside of me._

_I love them,_ Mario thought as there was a burning in his throat as he swallowed another gulp of alcohol. His eyes continued to hurt, and the pain remained even after the dark eyes squeezed shut.

_I love every damn one._    


End file.
